[Beastborne: Tower of Blight] (Book 6) Chapter 3

Hal was impressed with the progress of the dwarves and the kobolds. Even with all the work he did with his Founder Sigil Carve, Hal was only able to roughly cut up the walls of the pass to be nigh unscalable.

He couldn’t have done much more. His fine-grained control was severely lacking at the time and far too much power flowed through him to be able to do much more than expend as much as possible before it burned him up.

Being interrupted at the time hadn’t helped things.

The walls of the pass leading into the Shiverglades were now worked smooth like they had been created rather than carved from the mountains. They looked purposeful and proud.

The beginnings of a proper empire.

Looking at the two massive arms of sheltering stone, Hal felt the warmth of pride in his chest. Brightsong had come far, and he had high hopes for it to go even further.

Despite the danger the Shiverglades presented every single day to his settlement, this area was an ideal place to stake his first claim on the world. To create a Sanctum of his own, free of Rinbast’s oppression and protected against the destruction of the Manastorms.

Though Hal wasn’t keen on sharing his ambitions with anybody, not even Noth, he intended for Brightsong to be one of many cities under his banner.

A kingdom wasn’t enough.

He wasn’t going to be content to sit on a throne and boss around a bunch of people. In his mind’s eye, he would have kingdoms beneath him to run much of his empire. Giving him more than enough time to deal with Aldim’s various troubles while uniting the populace under a single banner.

That was his problem with Rinbast’s way of ruling: he thought too small.

Once he was close enough to sense the Memoria Crystal, Hal slipped beneath an overhang. Now out of the snow, he found it easier to focus on the Memoria Crystal in what he considered Durvin’s Dungeon.

There was a faint wrenching feeling behind his navel, a crushing darkness, and then he was standing in front of the shining Memoria Crystal once more.

Teleporting through Memoria Crystals was never a comfortable experience for Hal, but it was better than traveling through the intervening space through traditional means. Sometimes, they even permitted access to areas he otherwise couldn’t reach, like one of the world’s moons.

He still wanted to go back up there and test his mettle against those monsters, but Hal knew that was best left for another time. Perhaps he could even take Val along.

Another passage had opened up here. One that Hal knew instinctively would go deeper below the crust of Aldim and into the Fathomways that linked most–if not all–Dungeons on Aldim together into a vast underground network.

He yearned to explore them, and on some level understood that Besal was doing just that.

As much as he wanted to be reunited with his Khaeros, now was not the time. Their separation was likely permanent at this point. Hal had grieved for the loss, but he hoped that Besal was able to live his own life now. Free of his influence. Free from his past as a simple Beast.

“Hello again,” Hal said, turning to the Dungeon Core.

It glittered and shone brilliantly, happy and proud once more to have its own Dungeon back. It was far stronger than when Hal had come through with Durvin. Cleansing Durvin’s soul fragment had helped the Dungeon Core, but more importantly by far was the essence Hal had given it.

Essence that had corrupted Hal’s own incompatible Monster Core but would empower a Dungeon Core.

“Mind taking me to the entrance?” Hal asked.

It was always best to be polite. The Dungeon Core expressed its gratitude once more.

Unlike humans, monsters–and especially Dungeons which were living, breathing creatures themselves–did not express themselves in the traditional way.

For one, Dungeon Cores had no mouths or lungs. Instead, they used complex imagery and contextual words that appeared in Hal’s mind.

Owing to his Heartsblood Path for Beastborne, Hal could not only interpret these often-confusing jumbles of images and intentions but also respond in kind.

As it turned out, there was no need to ask the Dungeon Core. It owed Hal a great debt it could never repay, so it was happy to help him on his way.

In fact, since Hal had already anchored himself to the Memoria Crystal, he could have simply used it to teleport himself to the front of the Dungeon.

That would have been rude. And in a world as dire and dangerous as Aldim, kindness and politeness were in short supply. Especially between men and monsters.

Hal aimed to change that. Or at the very least, to offset some of the horrible things humans did to monsters–and vice versa.

With a friendly pat on the rotating diamond core of the Dungeon, Hal was whisked safely to the front of the Dungeon. It still looked like a massive skull with its mouth open in a silent scream, but now its eye sockets were filled with red inner light.

“Spooky,” Hal said appreciatively.

The Dungeon must have heard him, because one of the lights went out for a second as if it was winking at him. He chuckled.

Hal had been telling the truth when he said he would go alone to the Abyss. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get a ride there.

Adopting a pose he had learned while training his Dragonfire with the Tyrant White dragon, Naitese, and the Noble Gold dragon, Orrittam, Hal cycled his Dragonfire.

Once it reached a crescendo swirling around his Monster Core, like those old images of electrons zipping around an atom’s nucleus, Hal released the Dragonfire in a long flaming gout that pierced the gray clouds and burst.

The resulting explosion was like a signal flare on steroids. The heavy clouds were blasted apart, creating a clear circle of blue directly above Hal. Any flying creature would see it for miles and easily be able to reach him.

And anybody else on the ground would wonder at the strange clouds until they eventually closed in again.

Monsters were afraid of Dragonfire, and rightfully so too. Dragons were among the oldest creatures across all the Shards. They predated most civilizations and even several Shardrunes–what Hal had since learned was the name for a multiverse containing multiple different Shards.

An answering roar of golden flame announced the arrival of his staunchest yet unlikeliest of allies. Dragons were not known to be friendly to men. They definitely did not impart their Dragonfire to them.

Hal was incredibly lucky to have not just one, but two different types of Dragonfire.

In the world of dragons, he was effectively part of Orrittam and Naitese’s family now. They shared a bond that nobody but another dragon would understand. While he had earned his way in, their bond was a fortuitous turn of events.

The golden scaly shape of Orrittam dove through the circle of blue, trailing vapor and snow drifts as he landed sharply amid the powdery snow.

A cascade of glittering white was thrown up in a haze as Hal made his way through to the dragon. “I appreciate this,” Hal told Orrittam as he leaped up onto his back.

“Naitese argued that she should have been called first,” Orrittam chided Hal as he spread his massive golden wings and gave them one mighty flap.

They lurched up into the sky. Another pair of flaps brought them above the cloud cover and into the biting cold of the sky. Despite his armor’s insulation, it still wasn’t enough to protect against the chill seeping in.

Somewhere far below, Hal’s stomach was still struggling to catch up to him. Clenching his teeth, he struggled to keep his breakfast down.

“I figured she would think it too demeaning,” Hal told him. Naitese certainly complained enough about that as it was.

“She wants to be asked,” the dragon said with a booming chuckle.

“So she can say ‘no’?” Hal shook his head.

“Maybe, my boy. Maybe.” It seemed Orrittam didn’t think so.

Hal’s relationship with Naitese was… complicated. She had once hated him with every snow-white scale on her body. But after training together, Hal had thought she developed something of a soft spot for him.

It was refreshingly nice to be accepted by a fellow dragon. Hal paused, then mentally corrected himself. Another dragon. I’m not literally a dragon. Though… the line seems to be blurring.

Oh, she would deny it to high heaven if it was ever brought up, but she found reasons to linger or be around him in ways that did not make sense with her professed dislike of the Beastborne.

Apparently, even dragons appreciated friendship.

In retrospect, it would make the most sense to have the ice dragon ferrying him through the Shiverglades. Orrittam stuck out like the sore thumb of Midas.

However, unlike Naitese, Orrittam’s golden heat kept the worst of the cold at bay.

Hal had devised his newest armor set around the fact that he would keep Vorax–his mimic familiar–in his cloak form.

Without him, Hal had a paltry inventory and significantly less insulation to bear the brunt of the Shiverglades’ fierce winter. Riding on Orrittam’s back helped to counteract much of the cold.

“I should not have consented to this,” Orrittam told him conversationally.

“Oh, yeah?” Hal said, keeping his head low to avoid the worst of the icy winds slicing into his bones. Despite that, he could still see the beautiful, expansive view of the endless clouds below. He felt like he could see the whole world up here.

For a moment, Hal was in awe. Hal was flying above the very clouds on top of a literal Noble Gold dragon who wasn’t just loyal to him but was his good friend.

“Yes,” Orrittam rumbled. “However, I feel I know your heart well enough to realize that you would go, anyway. At least this way, you avoid the worst of it, yes?”

“When you’re right, you’re right, Orrittam.”

The dragon chuckled, a rich, hearty thing that Hal could feel through the large golden scales. “This place you are going. It is an evil place. I have long since sensed its presence well before your arrival. I suppose it would be too much to ask that you leave well enough alone?”

“Sorry, Orrittam. I must do this. One way or another, I need to get to the Abyss.”

“Stubborn to the last. At least I can tell Noth I tried.”

“You too?” Hal groaned.

“Afraid so, my boy. You may feel stronger than ever before, but even an Elder Dragon knows to avoid the Abyss at all costs. It stains the soul, leaving an indelible mark that cannot be erased. The stronger you are, Hal, the higher the price. You were quite weak the last time, but I fear the cost you must pay with your newfound strength.”

Hal hadn’t thought of that.

“It doesn’t change anything,” Hal told him. “Aldim is dying, Orrittam.”

“I know.”

Those were not the words Hal was expecting. He squinted at the back of the dragon’s head. “How?”

“It is obvious,” Orrittam told him. “The signs have been there for a long time. Eventually, my daughter’s prison would have weakened well before the Shard went dark and we would have fled together. You stopped that, gave us a life and a chance to mend scales. For that, you will always have a father’s gratitude. However, there is little that can be done to aid Aldim. Surely you know this?”

Hal shook his head.

That was just like dragons. It wasn’t necessarily their fault. They were nomads, going from Shard to Shard without much care for the upkeep or status of the Shard in question. If things got too dangerous, they could simply leave.

Few other creatures were afforded such luxury.

“I have to try,” was all Hal could say in response.

Even if his plan failed, and the Balesians knew nothing that could aid him in his bid to restore Aldim… he had to try.

They flew on through the day and into the night without speaking further.